TERRA (The Portal Series, Book 2)

by Bowker, Richard;

  A woman was sitting on the edge of a bed. She was fat and middle-aged, and the gray light didn't do her any favors. She was naked from the waist up, and her large breasts drooped down over her belly. On the table next to her was a wine jug and an overturned cup.

  I moved into the room. I saw shelves with more jugs on them, robes on hooks, a fresco of a ship on the ocean.

  The woman stared at me, stared at the gant. She seemed to dimly understand what was going to happen, even if she didn't know what the gant was for. She started to cry and held her hands out to me. She started talking fast—disconnected babble that I couldn't understand.

  She's no danger, I thought. The men had been the danger. I could tie her up, leave her behind while I rescued the girls.

  I heard sounds from downstairs—the freed girls talking, laughing, crying.

  She was a kidnapper. She would have sold those girls into slavery and used the money to buy more wine. What did I care about her?

  I couldn't wait. I aimed the gant at the woman and killed her, the fat body disappearing along with most of the bed. Then I left the room and searched the rest of the third floor. I didn't find anyone else. More rooms, more junk. One of the rooms had a window that looked out on the river. The river looked peaceful. I supposed the building itself seemed peaceful, if you were gazing at it from the outside. What could be going on inside this dismal, run-down place?

  I walked slowly back downstairs and went into the room, where the girls were all untied and standing up, hugging each other and crying. Palta looked at me, and I nodded. "They're all dead," I said. She said something to the girls, who looked at me, and at the gant.

  I put the gant into my pocket. "Vos liberi ad ire," I said to them. You're free to go.

  And then I slumped to the floor and started crying like a baby.

  I suppose it was partly from relief—I had done it. I had gotten the gant. I had come here and killed all the bad guys. I had saved Palta.

  But it was something more. It was the woman upstairs. It was death. A million million universes, but this was the one that this particular version of the woman had inhabited. And now she was gone in an instant. I didn't really have to kill her. But that's what I had done.

  I felt Palta next to me, holding me. The girls were crowding around me, thanking me. Their robes were dirty; their hair was disheveled; their faces were cut and bruised. But they were happy. "We all have to go," I said finally in Latin. "We can't stay here. Soon it will be daytime. You'll be safe if you leave."

  They thanked me some more. They wanted to know my name, but I wouldn't tell them. They wanted to know about the gant, but I wouldn't say anything about it. And so finally they left.

  All except one.

  She had long blond hair that was tied up in two braids. Her robe had rich embroidery on the shoulders and back. I couldn't make out her face because she was lying face down on the floor, with her arms extended towards me, the way Palta had prostrated herself in front of Affron in the jail cell.

  "You need to go," I repeated. "Get up."

  "I owe you my life," she said in accented Latin.

  "You don't owe me anything," I replied. "Go home."

  "You saved my life," she said. "Now my life belongs to you."

  I stood up and wiped my face on my sleeve; I could smell the puke on it from when I'd thrown up. Palta got up with me. "I don't want your life," I said. "We're leaving. You should leave too."

  Before we left, Palta peed in the corner of the room. She didn't looking for a toilet. I think she enjoyed peeing on that floor. Then we went out of the room and downstairs. Palta held onto my arm. The girl followed us. I turned and looked at her. Her face wasn't exactly pretty, but it was strong and distinctive, with bright blue eyes, a thin nose, and a square chin. "Go home," I repeated.

  She bowed deeply, but she didn't obey me.

  We left the building. The sun still wasn't up, but the day was already beginning to get hot, and Roma was coming to life. I felt completely exhausted all of a sudden. I hoped I'd be able to make it back to Parioli. We started walking away from the river, away from the nightmare.

  "How did you find me?" Palta asked.

  I told her what happened, from the time she had been kidnapped to the moment I took off her gag. If she was upset that none of the others would help rescue her, she didn't say so. "I hope Affron is all right," she said.

  "I hope so too."

  "One of the men said they were going to put us on ship and take us away," she said. "The ship. A ship."

  "That's what Valleia said would happen."

  "He said we would be happy there—wherever we were going. But then he laughed."

  "I'm glad he's dead."

  Palta nodded. "It's good that you killed them, Larry. I will never forget what you did for me."

  All I could say in response was: "I had to save you."

  She squeezed my arm. On the street, vendors were setting up their stands. I realized I was hungry, and I bought some bread for Palta and me. I noticed the girl was still trailing behind us.

  "Go home," I called out to her.

  "This is the way I go home," she replied.

  I didn't know what to do about her. I gave her some of the bread, which she accepted gratefully.

  We walked on. "What do you think is happening to Affron?" Palta asked.

  "I don't know. I don't think he knows."

  "He shouldn't have to suffer like this."

  "Yes. But we're all suffering, aren't we?"

  "Do you think Valleia will be angry with you?"

  "Probably. But she has bigger problems than me. At least she'll get the gant back."

  "What will we do? What will happen next?"

  "I have no idea. I think we'll probably have to hire a ship and leave Roma. If Affron can make it."

  We fell silent as we entered Parioli. The streets were still quiet there, although the shops were opening, and a few people were outside, probably heading for the baths. Finally we turned onto our street, and then we stopped dead. Palta's fingers dug into my arm.

  Three soldiers stood in front of our house, talking to Decius.

  Chapter 17

  We turned and ran.

  Had the soldiers seen us?

  It hurt to run. Finally I tripped on a cobblestone, stumbled, and stopped. Palta stopped too. I tried to think. "We should go back," I said, panting. "I can kill those soldiers with the gant. And Decius. We can save Affron and the rest, if they're still in the house."

  "It's too late," Palta replied. "Why are those soldiers just standing out there? I think they're waiting for us. I think they've already killed the others."

  I recalled the soldiers marching down the street as I made my way to the waterfront to rescue Palta. I should have gone back to the house and warned everyone. "But we don't know that," I pointed out.

  And then the girl with the blond braids came up to us. "Those soldiers," she said. "They are gone."

  We looked at her. "Are you sure?" Palta asked.

  The girl shrugged. "Of course. You are in trouble, I think. Can I help?"

  We didn't respond. Instead we walked back to our street and peered down it from the corner. The street was empty.

  "There was a carriage," the girl said from behind us. "The soldiers marched off, and the one in the white robe—he got in the carriage and left. He must be an important man, I think."

  "We should check inside," I said to Palta.

  She nodded.

  We walked slowly down the street to the house. The door was unlocked. I took out the gant, and we entered.

  The house was empty. I looked for signs of a struggle—broken furniture, overturned chairs, blood on the floor. I didn't see any. What had happened? I wondered if Affron had tried to use his magic—had it deserted him again? I wondered if Carmody had tried to fight—that's what Carmody would have done. But the soldiers would have overpowered him.

  "Maybe they escaped," I suggested.

  Palta shook her head.
"The soldiers have them," she said. "They are probably back in Urbis already. They shouldn't have stayed in the house."

  I supposed she was right.

  Except Valleia and Carmody thought they had the gant to protect them. But Affron had given it to me.

  The sun was shining now. Birds were chirping in the small trees in the peristyle.

  I looked at Palta. Tears streaked her face. I put my arm around her.

  We went back outside and stood in the sunlit street. What were we supposed to do now? We could never return to this house; that was clear. Decius and the priests would still be looking for us, even if they had captured the others, if only because we had the gant. And that meant we had to continue to hide—maybe for the rest of our lives.

  The girl with blond braids was still there, standing by a tree. "Can I help?" she repeated. "I am staying not very far from here. My home is your home. My life is your life."

  Palta wiped her face with the dirty sleeve of her robe. "Yes," she said. "We need help. We need a place to stay. Can we go with you?"

  The girl's face lit up with a smile. "Of course," she replied. "That is very good. Let's go."

  She led the way back to the main road. We looked around for soldiers but didn't spot any. The girl continued to look happy, like we had done her a favor by allowing her to help us. "My name is Siglind," she said. "I am visiting Roma for the first time, to see the Games. But I do not like the place. Too hot, too dirty, too dangerous. Now I am in trouble for letting myself be—what is the word?—stolen. But I think perhaps not as much trouble as you."

  "Where are you from?" I asked.

  "From Gallia. Have you ever been there?"

  "No, we haven't." Gallia—I remembered the name from talking to Affron. Gallia had started the revolt against the priests. I thought of King Harald's army being destroyed as the priests used the gants for the first time.

  "Ah. It is very beautiful in Gallia," Siglind said. "Not crowded and filthy, like Roma. And no bad men who steal young girls."

  "It sounds wonderful."

  Siglind nodded happily. "I can't wait to return. And where are you from?"

  "From Barbarica," I lied. "We are servants of people who came here for the Games, like you. But as you saw, they have been... taken away."

  "Yes, I saw. Why were they taken away?"

  "We don't know," Palta replied.

  Siglind considered this, and then dropped the subject. "And what are your names?"

  We told her.

  "Larry and Palta," she repeated. "They are funny names. But I suppose that's how they name children in Barbarica. Siglind is also a funny name, if you aren't from Gallia. It is not far to where I am staying, anyway. We can take a bath, eat breakfast, and rest—you both look very tired. I'm tired too. And I was very scared—like you, Palta. But your brave friend saved me."

  "He is very brave," Palta agreed.

  "He is a hero."

  The praise made me feel a little better.

  In a few minutes we turned, and suddenly we were on the most beautiful street I had seen in Roma. It was more a park than a street, with a large fountain in the middle and trees everywhere. The houses were far larger than the one we had rented, with high brick walls in front and iron gates.

  "Here we are," Siglind said, stopping in front of one of them.

  Two soldiers were guarding the gates. I noticed that they were dressed slightly differently from other soldiers I'd seen in Urbis and Roma—their cloaks had a blue fringe, and their breastplates had the figure of a lion on them.

  Both soldiers dropped to their knees when they saw Siglind. She said something to them in a language I didn't understand. They got up, bowed, and opened the gate. We walked through it. One of the soldiers ran ahead of us into the three-story building that faced us at the end of a long path. In moments the soldier reappeared accompanied by a black-haired, white-robed man. Behind them a thin, elderly woman in a dark robe and a white headdress struggled to keep up.

  "Now for the yelling," Siglind murmured.

  The black-haired man walked quickly down the path. He gave Palta and me a quick glance, and then dropped to one knee in front of Siglind. Then he got up and started talking fast and angrily—again, in a foreign language—waving his hands in the air and pointing back towards the building. The old woman joined him, and she started talking at the same time, crying and beating her breast.

  Siglind said something in return, talking just as fast. She pointed to us. She crossed her hands over her breast. She pointed up to the sky. Finally she, too, started to cry, and she prostrated herself on the path in front of the two of them, her body heaving with sobs.

  And this caused the old woman to howl and the man to get down on both knees and apparently beg Siglind to get up.

  Finally she did. The old woman embraced her. The man bent over and kissed her feet. Then he crawled over and kissed my feet, then Palta's feet. Finally he stood up and bowed to us. "You are our honored guests," he said to us in good Latin. "My name is Venerix, and I welcome you to the embassy of Gallia."

  The old woman still stared at us suspiciously, and she didn't speak. "This is Lafreia," Siglind explained to us. "I have failed her, my father, and my homeland by not obeying her just commands. She doesn't trust you, but she will come to love you because you saved my life. Won't you, Lafreia?"

  Lafreia inclined her head maybe a fraction of an inch. She didn't seem impressed by us, with our torn and dirty robes.

  Siglind smiled. "Now the yelling is done," she said to us. "It was not so bad. We all take a bath, and the servants wash your clothes, and then we eat and talk. Yes?"

  Venerix bowed some more and led us inside.

  We walked through a large entrance hall with marble floors, white columns, and a grand staircase flanked by ten-foot-high painted statues of a man and woman wearing armor. There was a mosaic of a lion on the floor. Everyone who saw Siglind stopped what they were doing and bowed deeply until we had passed.

  "What is embassy?" Palta whispered to me in English.

  "It's, um, a building where people who represent a foreign country live. In the capital city of another country."

  Palta didn't look like she quite got the idea. And I didn't quite get it myself. Gallia was a province in the Roman empire, I assumed. Maybe provinces had embassies to each other, or to Urbis. And who exactly was Siglind? She certainly seemed important.

  Beyond the entrance hall we entered what looked more like a residence, only much bigger than our house in Parioli. Two upper floors surrounded the huge atrium, with balconies looking out over flowers and trees and a central fountain.

  "Let us go to the tepidarium," Siglind said. "Wash the Roman dirt from our bodies."

  She led us down a flight of stairs into a large, steamy, brick-lined room with a pool in the middle; it was almost as big as the public bath I had gone to in Urbis. She motioned to a couple of shirtless men at the far end of the pool, and they immediately started dumping hot water into the pool from enormous cauldrons. Then she took off her sandals and robe, handed them to one of several women who were standing there, and walked down into the pool. "Come, then," she called out to us.

  So Palta disrobed and followed Siglind into the pool.

  "You too, Larry," Siglind said to me. "The women will take care of your clothes."

  "I have my weapon," I replied. "No one can touch my weapon."

  "Oh, yes," Siglind said. "Your weapon is a thing of magic. We must talk about it." She said something to the women, who nodded.

  So I took the gant out and set it on a table and then removed my clothes and joined Siglind and Palta in the pool.

  It felt unbelievably wonderful after all that had happened. The warm water was just what my aching body needed. Siglind was older and had larger breasts than Palta, and it was very hard not to stare at them, but I was too tired to be aroused by her nakedness. Siglind closed her eyes and ducked her head under the water, then came back up and motioned to the men to put in more buckets o
f hot water. "It is good, isn't it?" she said to us.

  We agreed.

  "Last night was like a bad dream," she continued. "I went off exploring by myself, away from Lafreia and my guards. I was told not to do this, but still I did it—I am like that, I'm afraid. And I ended up being taken by those bad men. I was very stupid and very frightened. Venerix sent men out to search for me when I didn't come back, of course. He stayed up all night worrying. He was about to ask the Romans for help. That would have been highly embarrassing, but what could he do? Now all is well. Venerix and Lafreia are too happy that I am safe to stay angry with me. If I hadn't come back, they would have been thrown in prison, or worse."

  I decided I needed to clear something up. "You seem to be very important here, Siglind. Who are you?"

  "Ah, I have not said. My father is Carolus, king of Gallia. He let me come to Roma for the Games, although he thought it was a stupid and dangerous idea. He was right, as usual."

  "So you are a—a—" I tried to think of the Latin word.

  "Regis filia, yes. A princess. It is a good thing for you when a princess owes you her life, Larry. Although men have all the power in Gallia. My father keeps threatening to marry me off to someone. I suppose he will someday."

  "And you're living here in the embassy while you're in Roma?" I asked.

  She nodded. "Yes. It is very nice, isn't it? But Roma itself—ah, I cannot wait to leave it."

  "Where is Gallia?" Palta asked.

  Siglind waved her hand. "You do not know? Gallia is north, over the mountains. It is so lovely. And the people are proud and strong. Tell me about your homeland. My father would never let me go to any part of Barbarica."

  Palta looked at me. "That's a long story," I said.

  "We have plenty of time," Siglind responded. "But as you wish. Now we shall eat." She motioned to the women, who came to the edge of the pool with towels for us. We dried ourselves, and then the women handed us white robes. Mine was too large for me, but it was soft and clean and smelled way better than the one I had been wearing. I put the gant in one of its pockets. Then Siglind led us upstairs to a large dining room lined with frescoes of fierce warriors slaying their enemies. She gave some orders, and in moments we were served delicious bread and cheese and figs along with sausages and big slices of beef—more meat than I'd eaten since I'd been on Terra.